March 23rd, 2007

Hey, She’s Only 5 Years Old!!!

What, exactly was the school district of New Rochelle, NY thinking?

It appears that the policy for dropping children off a school bus is to simply leave them, even if no parent is there to meet them. We’re not talking teens, we’re talking as young as five.

While the school district will now re-visit that policy in light of the news story that broke, it makes one wonder exactly such a thing could even occur.

So during the same week that Chubb goes over the top trying to stop a law firm from blogging because of too much imagined risk, a school district is found to have not even considered risk for its youngest students. A little common sense on both ends seems to be in order.

 

March 20th, 2007

Farting In The Courthouse

(This has nothing whatsoever to do with New York personal injury law)

There are two types of families in this world: Those for whom passing gas is a matter of some discretion, and those for whom it is an Olympic sport.

Those in the latter group are no doubt the target audience for Pull My Finger Fred and Fartman, both of whom are plush dolls that make a variety of sounds and comments (that’s Fred, I think, to the right).

They have something else in common too, both were memorialized today in an opinion from the U.S. Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals. Seems they had issues of copyright infringement, trademark infringement, and unfair competition.

From Circuit Judge Diane Wood:

Somewhat to our surprise, it turns out that there is a niche market for farting dolls, and it is quite lucrative.

The decision is here: JCW Investments v. Novelty, Inc. (a/k/a Pull My Finger Fred v. Fartman)

More details from this 2004 blog post on the dispute at the Berkely Intellectual Property Weblog.

Briefs are here.

(hat tip to How Appealing)

 

March 14th, 2007

Prison Inmate Commits Suicide, And Family Sues

It would be difficult to imagine a more heartbreaking emotion than that of a parent that loses a child to suicide.

From the Asbury Park Press comes this story of a 24 year old man arrested for burglary, suffering from delusions, who hangs himself with his shoelaces while awaiting trial. The parents have brought suit against Monmouth County, which runs the jail, for negligence in failing to keep a constant watch on an individual with known psychological problems that was suicidal:

While suffering from delusions, paranoia and methadone withdrawal, inmate Nicholas E. Organek — who was being checked on every 30 minutes at Monmouth County Jail in Freehold Township — used his shoelaces to hang himself from an exposed pipe in his cell two years ago.

Physicians should have kept him on constant watch status in the jail given his history of suicidal thoughts and previous suicide attempts, according to a federal lawsuit recently filed by his parents.

There are some who like to think that all lawsuits are about “the money” and get their kicks mocking the injured or bereaved. But, while I don’t know these claimants, I think I can safely say that even if they received all the money in Fort Knox, it would do nothing to heal the heartache. Many litigants feel that by holding people accountable for their actions it makes it less likely someone else will suffer the same fate.

Update 3/15/07 –: Just hours after writing about this New Jersey case, I see another one from yesterday’s Albany Times Union about a suicide in an Albany jail, and the mother’s suit against the jail for ignoring repeated warnings that the prisoner would injure or kill himself.

 

March 13th, 2007

An Insider’s View of the $47.5M Verdict Against Merck

A blog was put up by the son-in-law of the plaintiff, Frederick “Mike” Humeston, reflecting on the two Vioxx trials that they went through in Atlantic City against Merck. The first trial was won by Merck, but the verdict was tossed out by the judge. The second has now resulted in a whopper of a loss for Merck of $20M in compensatory damages and $27.5M in punitive damages.

The writer discusses the lawyers, the jurors and the judge. The jury comments, as always, are the most interesting.

About the first jury, he writes:

My wife went to Atlantic City that first time and told me that the jury seemed completely uninterested in the proceedings….After that first trial, my father-in-law told me he realized his case was in trouble when one of the questions the Jury asked was whether they (the Court) served any drinks in the “side bar.” The Judge had allowed the Jury to ask written questions of the witnesses and apparently were bored with the many “side bars” the lawyers and the Judge had undertaken to clarify points of law.

About the second jury, he writes:

Visiting, I could see the jury was involved, taking notes, asking intelligent questions. They were definitely engaged.

(link via Evan Schaeffer’s Legal Underground)

 

March 7th, 2007

About The Scooter Libby Juror That Refused To Wear The Valentine’s Day Shirt

Juries can be fascinating. I had noted earlier about the one juror who refused to wear the red Valentine’s Day shirts. And I also noted that her excusal by the court was likely bad for Libby, as stubborn jurors are more apt to hold out longer for their beliefs, destroying unanimity.

Now we know why she was excused, and based on this snippet from a blog posting by another juror, those traits of individualism seemed evident:

As I said, the original 16 jurors – 12 regulars, four alternates, got along famously with one exception. Let’s call the exception RJ (Runaway Juror). She broke the first rule by flashing another juror a page in her notebook during court testimony. Fortunately the message, Look at that eye candy in the third row! wasn’t top secret stuff. She also bothered Court clerk Mattie about the lunch menu, and inserted herself into others’ conversations. All that was easily tolerated. But one day before we were called to court, she approached three jurors and semi-whispered, “My mother told me that reporters are writing stories about how we….” Before she could say more, all three told her to “STOP.”

So this Monday morning, Court clerk Mattie (who hadn’t repeated a single item of clothing in the first three weeks of the trial, according to our fashion consultants) calls RJ into the hall. A few minutes later, she’s collecting her belongings. “It was just something I heard,” she says. We call goodbyes from a distance. As soon as the door closes, four jurors pump their fists.